View Full Version : Game of Pretenses
Karai wandered through the bustling downtown marketplace of Radasanth, looking for anything that might catch her eye. There were baubles and trinkets from every corner of the realm, spices and meats she’d never heard of. Still, she knew everything here was an everyday thing to someone. She wanted something that wouldn’t just look nice, but catch her mind’s eye as well, perhaps something immensely powerful.
A voice called out from nowhere distinguishable, “Looking for something or just casing your next job?”
Karai’s left eyebrow shot up, but otherwise she didn’t react. The subtle difference in clarity between a physical voice and a mental one were still quite subtle to the young telepath, but her general aloofness wouldn’t be shaken by a simple trick like conversation.
“A little rude, don’t you think? Forcing yourself into a little girl’s head and asking about her motives. Though, I could certainly think of a few places I’d like to force you.”
Karai smiled, truthfully, it’d felt like a little too long since her last exploit, though the taste of blood still lingered like a pleasant aroma. She sent that little tidbit along the newly formed telepathic connection as well, perhaps just to shake things up.
Without warning, however, she became very cold to the intruder, demanding his intentions without using words. It was a strange way of communicating, complex ideas easy enough to be described in vocabulary, but difficult to simply picture.
Another day, another mission laid forth by the cards.
“You’re the best one suited for handling her, Logan,” Vincent said with an air of honesty, which the psion had not expected. The Emperor rarely spoke without sarcasm or arrogance, and even rarer did he offer another a compliment unless it was backhanded.
Logan took a deep breath and rubbed his temples with his thumb and index finger.
“And why is that, exactly? All the cards told me is we need to look into her.”
Vince rested a light hand upon the psion’s shoulder before he responded, “For the same reason recruiting you was no walk in the park.”
Logan let a small smirk appear at the corners of his lips.
“But you sucking at recruiting doesn’t explain why I’m the one who has to go after her, Vince,” the psion said.
The Emperor of the Tarot Hierarchy squeezed down on the psion’s shoulder at the joke, and Logan winced and shrugged him away.
Vince chuckled as he continued, “You aren’t getting it yet, Logan. There’s one simple truth about you. Do you even know what it is?”
He thought for a few moments and then cocked his head to side, eyebrow raised, as he looked up to Vincent.
“Wait a second. Is Karai a mind-reader?”
Vincent laughed as he nodded before responding, “About damn time you figured that one out. You’d think the Master Manipulator would have less trouble with little old Vince’s riddles. I know I’m good, but damn, Logan.”
The psion shook his head at Vince, unimpressed.
“It is just really hard to get down to your level. You’re down here,” Logan said as he lowered his hand toward the floor, “And I’m up here.” He then moved his hand a ways above his own head.
Vincent grumbled something incoherent and then pointed at the exit from the library.
“Out, now. You have all you need. Get a move on.”
=========
Logan looked around the market. Plenty of shops for a gifted thief, but not prime telepath territory. His eyes bounced from stall to stall before landing on one with a bunch of shinies. A grin crossed his features.
She’s not here for the shinies, she’s here to feed on the busy and distracted minds!
The psion slipped over to a stall across the wide dirt street from the one with the baubles and trinkets a plenty, and kept an eye on the customers. Nobody struck him as really out of the ordinary, and just as the last of his hope waned, someone matching the description given slipped in unnoticed by the merchant or their customers.
She peered at a bit of the merchandise as he kept an eye on her from afar, and just as she prepared to make her move he sent her the simple telepathic message. Her response told him all he needed to know, or so he thought.
Logan was prepared to play the game; a psion and a telepath squaring off. What could go wrong?
“I can feel you scheming. By now you must have realized I’m not someone you can simply fuck around with.” The environment Karai was pushing across the line was very cold, as if trekking through a blizzard. The thought that someone could just waltz into her mind and interrupt her was just so absurdly rude that Karai had no reason not to find this person and kill them where they stood.
No, him. As time went on, she was beginning to piece together bits of who this man was. She began trying to probe, though his mental aptitude was much greater than her own. It might take quite a bit of work to get in. But gender was a start.
Overall, there were much fewer men in the market than women. Men had jobs and business to take care of. It was doubtful a simple merchant would waste time on her, and an agent of Salvar wouldn’t have had the time to set up a stall in all the bustle to chase her down. No, she was being followed by someone, certainly, but probably not anyone from her homeland. She began filtering people out, first women and merchants, and started looking for the man who was marking her.
Of course, she was still looking at various goods in carts or storefronts, though with much less intensity than before. She was going to maintain her appearance, if only to make herself seem far stronger than she was. Confidence was everything when it came to her profession. Confidence, and skill.
Silently, she slipped into a store behind a few gossiping mothers, and in front of the poor saps called husbands she could have spending all this time trying to feed on. While they each distracted themselves with conversations on who had been impregnated, or who had lain with the barmaid from a few blocks over, she began changing.
First, her arms and chest, then her hair retracting into a more masculine style. She slipped her arms into a blazer on a rack, pulling it off with little effort. She slipped into the rack and pulled down some trousers, and her dress along with it. A second later she walked out in male form. A fair bit taller and a darker complexion, in a freshly stolen outfit.
She walked back out into the sun baked market, cursing herself for losing focus on the man. Perhaps her little ruse would at least buy her a little time. If she was being tracked, any of a thousand possibilities could be true. Perhaps an assassin her mother hired, perhaps a bounty hunter; who knew?
The faint trail of thoughts that Karai had connected to before was still hanging around. She latched back onto it and tried to continue making progress figuring this man out.
“Right, you want to play games I guess, let’s play some games.”
The psion kept an eye on his target while maintaining a safe distance. As she bobbed to and fro within one shop, his eyes never left her, though he did let multiple shoppers pass by him in an attempt to keep his obscurity. Until that point, the ruse certainly seemed to be working, but then he lost her.
Somewhere between Andelio’s Fine Clothing and Hubert’s What’s Its and More, she gave him the slip, but Logan wasn’t certain which shop she managed to shake the tail. He took a deep breath as he pulled a coat from a rack to keep his cover alive.
The coat fit quite nicely, surprisingly enough. The chest was the right width, the breast the right depth, and even the arms reached to the end of his wrist. Then he spotted the price tag, and his eyes grew wide as he hastily returned the jacket to the rack.
He glanced around, but his mark was nowhere in sight. She was well and gone, by then, but the psion wasn’t exactly one to give up.
”At least you aren’t afraid to play. The real question is, do you have the guts to get on my level,” he asked telepathically.
Logan had a small secret few knew; even few friends knew. He could speak telepathically, impressing thoughts upon others, but he couldn’t read them in return. Thankfully, it seemed, at least at that point, she hadn’t sussed out that little gem, and if the psion had anything to say about it, she wouldn’t.
Karai casually walked away from the store, carefully scanning thoughts as they popped in and out of the present. She picked up a few in somewhat quick succession that tipped her off. The first was the name of the store she’d just stolen a whole suit from. Next, a feeling of loss of objective, though it was faint, and didn’t waver far from confidence.
The tip off, however, was surprise. No one who went into that kind of store was surprised at the expense of anything; it was either a sense of self-importance and a desire to maintain one’s appearance, or a longing to have what they could not afford for another month.
Karai’s knife found its way into her now larger right hand, mostly concealed by the sleeve. There he is, came the thought, as she found the man scrambling to put the jacket back on its rack. She waited for him to exit the store, pretending to browse some of the wares from another vendor.
“Of course I’m not afraid of the game, I think I’ve played it enough to know what the board can look like.”
She watched as his head turned from side to side and he began walking away. She was on him in a second, a few strides with her now much longer legs. Her knife pressed gently against his back, just before the end of his ribcage. One quick jab, and it would take quite a healer to keep him from succumbing to the sucking wound. Her left hand rested on his shoulder, a firm grip, but not painfully so; simply commanding.
A few of the market goers may have noticed, but Karai didn’t care to try and read them. They scurried onward, not wanting to interrupt. How polite of them.
“But why would I lower myself to your level?” Karai used the newly masculine voice she had transformed, a stark contrast to the voice her mind would have been conveying. By now, such a thing hardly phased the girl.
“So what was it you were looking for?”
Logan smirked as his hands rested freely at his sides, his hilts gripped ever so lightly. He didn’t give her the satisfaction of a response, only clenched fists and sudden closing of her windpipe and a distinct inability to breathe. She made one fatal flaw; not understanding just who her target was, who he was.
He knew who she was from the information gathered by various Tarot operatives scattered throughout Corone, specifically Concordia. The recent agreement between the Corone Rangers and the Tarot Hierarchy increased the Hierarchy’s reach deep into the Coalition, especially within the rank and file of intelligence. It gave the psion greater opportunity to research potential marks without leaving himself totally vulnerable to discovery. If anything, it afforded him the opportunity to remain faceless in the vast sea of Coalition forces, avoiding the big mistake of leaving himself vulnerable to discovery.
”Karai, why don’t you put down your blade and we can talk. I’m not here to fuck up your feeding. In fact, I’m here to encourage it,” the psion offered the truce telepathically, though he suspected she wouldn’t offer much in the way of argument.
Lack of oxygen doesn’t take long to take hold, but it does take a bit to truly disable and even longer to effectively kill. It is a slow, silent killer, much like he learned Karai preferred in her feeding. Slow, silent, and torturous.
It was a lot like how he preferred to play the game. She really was on his level.
To say she underestimated was an understatement; Karai made a lethal error in judgement. She was going to die. Her knife pushed through Logan’s leather coat and into his skin, but she lacked the strength to do real damage. Her head was already spinning from the lack of oxygen.
His words came, but they felt fuzzier than normal. She let go of the knife, no longer caring what damage it had done. Her hands went up to her throat out of instinct. By now, there was a minor chaos, as people began clearing away from the scene of a not insignificant man falling to his knees.
She looked up to him, and mouthed “Okay,” defeat in her eyes. Logan released his hold on her throat, and helped the shapeshifter to her feet. She rubbed her neck, and was surprised that there was no pain, only a mild, ethereal reminder of what had just taken hold of her.
It wasn’t often that Karai had met an equal, or even someone she viewed as an equal. She could goad men and women alike into all sorts of things, but this man had force, he had something more than metaphor backing up his words.
It was terribly exciting.
“I think, perhaps we should talk elsewhere. I’m normally not unappreciative of attention, but this is not a kind I’m particularly fond of.”
Karai pointed towards an off-road, in the general direction of an apartment she had screwed her way into. “It’s about a 3 minute walk. We can talk on the way, but too much has happened for anything you might encourage.”
Logan nodded in agreement, continuing to completely block out the pain from the minor wound to his chest. By then, the blood from the wound had seeped into his shirt which acted as a sort of gauze to help seal the small gash.
”We might be better heading somewhere else. I suspect I’m not the only one looking for you, but I am pretty sure I’m the only one who is willing to help you escape,” the psion pushed the thought into Karai’s mind.
The moment Karai, in the form of the tall man, slipped the blade against Logan’s throat she revealed her disguise, but not just to the psion. Two short, pudgy men in grey pinstriped suits with matching fedoras followed the girl’s every move, and were it not for her quick change stint in the shop, they would’ve had her. Logan motioned over to the men with his eyes, letting his new cohort know she should take a quick, but subtle glance.
”I would also venture a guess to say they aren’t here looking for a good time.”
“They probably aren’t,” Karai returned, taking only a quick look before pointing her eyes past them, as if they were only an obstacle.
”I have a plan. Just play along,” he said telepathically with a slight smirk forming at the corners of his mouth. He took a quick breath and then pushed Karai hard, nearly knocking the faux man over. It was entirely intentional.
"Careful where you’re going buddy! Do you want to take this outside? We can definitely take this outside if you have the balls to stand up to me like a real man,” the psion shouted with a quick wink.
Karai was surprised, a bit, by the sheer control over his force that Logan possessed, even physically. To be honest, she was feeling a bit riled up over the whole situation, but right now it was simply a pleasant distraction.
Karai regained her composure, standing as a proper gentleman would. Her eyes cast down at the man who pushed her, a practiced lack of interest in them. “Why would I even waste the time, scoundrel?”
Karai made her way past the line of people who had slowed down from their normal pace to watch what might have been a thrilling brawl between the classes, all of whom ended up bitterly disappointed. As she made her way through, she began her change.
He head dipped down, hair slowly growing back out in a dirty blonde. She shed the coat jacket as she pushed her way into another store, The Mademoiselle’s Blouse and Corset. Before the owners could take note of the arrival, she hurried the change and slid on a top that was on the rack. In the rush, however, she misjudged her bust and the capacity of her new garment, and was squeezed a bit tight.
“Miss, is everything alright?” A voice rang out from the back room, and Karai quickly ducked behind the rack. Her face was still a little too square, and her legs hadn’t even begun the shift. But luckily, her throat had moved enough to support a new voice, and that would have to do for now.
“Yes yes, everything is fine, just trying to get this skirt on right!” Karai hurried to pull the trousers off and stuff them under the rack. The woman would certainly want to come over for such a poor excuse, so there was certainly a bit of pressure. Karai nearly ripped the nearest skirt off a display, slipping into it just as her legs lost their manly hair and shape, once more becoming feminine.
Just as she was standing up the woman rounded the corner, a look of almost disgust in her eyes. “Oh dear, no. That top with that skirt? Never. Come, come, we’ll get you fixed up.”
“Oh, alright. Thank you..” Karai mumbled out sheepishly. It was an act; she needed a character in case those men were keener than they looked. The attendant might at least make a nice human shield.
While she spun around the shop, Karai sent another thought off to Logan. “If they follow me in here, make sure you’re close behind. As much as I wouldn’t mind sacrificing this woman, she actually has nice taste in fashion.”
The newer skirt fit much better, coming down to her knees with a lovely patterned frill. The top was exchanged for something in more of a halter style. Bold move, and a bit on the edge of socially acceptable. Just the way Karai liked it.
“Oh thank you so much miss I really like it!” Karai beamed to the woman while she looked in the mirror.
“Make sure you send the bill to my daddy, I’m sure you’ll recognize the address,” she continued, writing down the address to one of the city’s penthouses. The second the girl’s eyes saw the street number, her eyes went from a look of dread over another possible walkout, to what must have been bliss.
“Of course dear!” The woman replied, “Though, I didn’t know he had any daughters.”
“Oh, he doesn’t,” Karai smiled back. She turned towards the door, ready to simply leave it at that. Of course the man didn’t have daughters. Sons too, likely; not that he would ever have known about them.
Logan heard the message loud and clear, and kept a reasonably close distance to the two men tailing his new friend. The suits and fedoras the two men wore were somewhat familiar to the psion, harkening to a prior time in his life when criminal mischief was more criminal than mischief.
What has Karai gotten herself into, he wondered to himself as he tailed his former allies.
In his days leading Vice, some years prior, he instituted the dress code, and apparently the group still maintained it. The professional dress of organized crime allowed operatives of the group to stand out, and helped their leaders send a clear message to any who might cross them. The concept was as much about a show of unity as it was a show of force.
The psion peaked inside the store as he made a nonchalant pass in front. The two agents would immediately recognize him, and it might just offer a distraction or maybe even lessen the heat on Karai.
The larger, the term being quite relative, of the two men immediately spotted the ex-leader of Vice, and his eyes grew large. Logan had been out of the Vice picture for a year or so, and he hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms; something he intended to remedy eventually. The man pulled a katana from inside his jacket, and the psion had to smirk as the crowd dispersed amidst screams and shouts.
”At least they kept most of my orders in tact,” he telepathically shouted to both of the men.
The second readied his katana much like the first, and then turned to face the psion. They began to approach, and Logan waited knowing the stories they told of his personal exploits would most likely keep the men from outright attacking. After all, how many agents had tried in the last year to take him out, only to return to the group in a wooden box or worse?
By his count, at least a dozen had failed. What was another two?
The larger of the two jumped at Logan, something the psion hadn’t counted on, but he was still more than able enough to parry away the attack. Logan’s hands shot down to his sides and readied his own swords.
He saw Karai appear from the doorway of the shop, take a step toward the men, hesitate, and then turn back toward the open alley way. She didn’t leave, though. She just stood there watching, waiting.
The second man sliced toward the psion’s midsection, but he parried that attack away as he had the first. The psion began to wonder if these agents were even trained in combat, or if they were just show pieces for the new leader of the criminal underground. Logan clenched a fist around one sword, and the first man’s eyes grew wide and bloodshot. He dropped his katana, and proceeded to grab at his throat. The flow of oxygen through the man’s system was ceasing in its entirety, leaving him desperate for breath.
The asphyxiating operative grabbed and clawed at his partner, unable to speak or offer any explanation. SInce his time with Vice, Logan had learned a significant number of new tricks. Whereas in his time with the group he was much more of a psionic wunderkind, ever since he’d honed his hydromancy to the point of molecular manipulation and altering the flow of oxygen and hydrogen when necessary. Neither of the Vice agents were prepared for the new maneuvers, but the first paid the ultimate price as he finally slumped to the ground unmoving.
Logan’s eyes settled on the second man, and he pointed one of his swords at him.
“Leave, and let Vice know...I’m coming,” the psion’s words laced with an extra sting, and the agent clearly got the message as he turned and ran like a demon fleeing Haide. Logan approached the fallen Vice agent, and dropped to one knee.
His fingers moved over the man’s eyelids, lowering them, before whispering some incoherent words. He grabbed the sword and the fedora, placing the latter on his head, and then looked up toward Karai.
”You won’t have to worry about them for a while. We should still talk, though. There is much to discuss. The apartment you mentioned before should be good.”
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